“I feel that way, too,” said the younger brother.
When they got to the house, their sister was there; she had her roots in the creek, washing off the mud. When they told her how they felt, and that they almost forgot her, she said: “I am not afraid now; I don’t feel as I did in those other places.”
The next day the brothers said to Pitoíois: “We are going to hunt; you had better stay in the house and pound the roots. Don’t lie down; if you do, you will go to sleep and harm will come to you.”
Pitoíois pounded her roots, worked with her beads, and then straightened out her hair to see how long it had grown; it dragged on the ground.
The brothers went in different directions to look for deer; when they met, the younger brother said: “Off in the east from where I was I heard a man singing a beautiful song.”
“Perhaps it was Wus,” said the elder brother; “he is always trying to deceive people.”
When they were home and were through eating, the younger brother said: “I wish I had something to amuse myself with.”
“What do you want?” asked his brother. He thought it was wisdom or nice beads.
“I want a wife.” (Wus had put that thought into his mind.)
“There are no women near here,” said his brother.